Earth
by Daalny
Summary: The things needed to make life grow.


**A/N: For Lavender and Hay, not stopping.**

It was the height of summer in Yorkshire, the village had come out to create. The post-war drive to make the land farmable had brought everyone together. Those considered above stairs were more likely to stuff their feet into a pair of wellingtons and go to land to evaluate it. A particular piece of land needed an irrigation channel. Lord Grantham's money would provide the piping and the pump machinery while the village would provide the manual labor to dig the ditch. Doctor Clarkson had been summoned to accompany the wagon loads of men incase there was an injury. After three quarters of an hour of watching men dig Clarkson got bored. He pushed up his sleeves and grabbed a spade. He found a space between two men and quickly fell into rhythm with the diggers. At first the men thought it was token gesture, that he would leave after five minutes however, he didn't. When half an hour had passed the men became concerned, "Would you like some water doctor?"

"No thank you Mr. Drake, not just yet." He muttered as another pile of dirt was cleared away. More men were arriving to help. On another wagon there were buckets, the loose earth was scooped up so it could be loaded and taken to some local cottages for their own gardens. The Great War had given way to rationing and had citizens tending to Victory Gardens not only for sustenance but also for currency. Fresh vegetable could be used for barter for other items.

The sun was scorching but the men worked on, if muscles became too sore from digging the man was swapped out for the bucket brigade. Richard stood up straight and sighed his shoulder twinged he fell out of line and gave another man his spade. Instead of retreating to the shade which all the men hoped he would do he went to the wagon and grabbed a bucket. Richard wasn't put off by their concerned looks, just the opposite, he found it somewhat complimentary. However, being a doctor had not spared him from war or other hard labors of life. He wasn't going to start carrying two buckets on his shoulders but he didn't want the village thinking he was above this type of work. He knew he limits he would stop when his body told him.

A shout had him dropping his bucket, a spade had come up too far and had thwacked painfully against a another mans head. Calmly Richard called for his bag which was brought by a digger, another provided water so the doctor could wash his hands. The men had taken an impromptu break and had formed a circle around the doctor and his patient. Richard ignored the men, at least they were quiet. The wound was cleaned and then assessed, it would not need stitching. His right hand held gauze to the wound to apply pressure while the fingers of his left hand probed the forming lump. The man hadn't lost consciousness and could answer questions correctly. The bleeding had stopped and bandage was applied. Curtis didn't want to leave so Richard had him sit on one of the wagons. Richard picked up a bucket and the silent signal was given, it was time to get back to work.

Another hour passed and dull warbling could be heard, it gradually got louder until the men could see a line of bodies approaching them. The approaching army was actually the wives of the men digging. They carried baskets and blankets. It was lunchtime and they were bringing provisions. Richard took off his straw hat and swiped his brow with his arm, he could do with a sandwich. The women began falling out of line to find their counterpart. Richard was surprised when a woman clad in blue stepped out of line and came towards him. He then saw that it was Isobel and his heart leapt. She too was carrying a basket and he felt a flush a warmth and knew it was not from the sun.

"I heard that the whole village would be out, I wanted to help." She said as she cocked her head towards the basket. Another couple had brought a blanket and invited Richard and Isobel to sit with them. Margie and Dean Yarnell were tenant farmers on the southern end of Downton. Their farm was successful nonetheless they wanted to help. When Isobel saw the contents of the basket Margie had brought her heart sank, there were various sort of sandwiches, what looked like a meat pasty, tarts and fruits. Isobel had made some sandwiches, thrown in some apples along with a bottle of lemonade. It seemed meagre in comparison, Richard saw how Isobel's face had tightened minutely, following her eyeline he quickly understood. Margie and Dean were oblivious and invited both of them to take whatever they wished.

"What type are these?" Richard asked pointing towards one of Isobel's wrapped sandwiches.

"Cheese." she answered with a small voice.

"My favorite." He delivered and reached for one. It was the truth, he did enjoy a simple cheese sandwich. Isobel cheeks flushed and happily she tore into one of her own sandwiches. The four enjoyed their repast, but soon it was time to return to work. Isobel watched as Richard took his place in the line and began to dig with his spade. She swallowed sharply as she watched his shoulders flex as the spade moved. The women began picking up the debris leftover and Isobel picked up the crusts and apple cores. Isobel had an idea and went to fetch a bucket so the all the various bits could be stored in one place. She went around to the women and the rubbish was cleared. The sun was still beating down and the women were moving along the line giving glasses of water to the men. Isobel and Margie were distributing while other women were pouring glasses. Richard drained his glass hastily and the man beside him could see he needed another so he quickly took a sip before handing him his own. "Oh, thank you" Richard rasped before draining the glass. Isobel then quickly gave the benefactor another glass.

"Thirsty doctor?" Mark asked, the man who had given up his drink.

Richard rolled his shoulders, "Yes, haven't been this hot since Africa."

The men around him heard his words and quickly remembered that had served honorably in two wars. This remark had one man asking, "Why are we doing this when it's so bloody hot?"

Another piped up, "We have to do it now."

"Can't do it in autumn, winter or spring because of the rain!" Came a sage reply.

"Yeah, this channel would be a swimming pool!" Came another shout.

"Wouldn't mind that." Drake shouted and all the men laughed.

It wasn't soon after that another cry had the doctor falling out of line. Dirt flung from a shovel had gotten into a man's eye. Richard had the man flat on the ground so he could kneel over him. He called for water and a buckets were being brought over, some a little too hastily. One of the water bearers buckets slipped from his shoulder the man cried out in alarm and on instinct Richard curled his body over his patient. The water and bucket fell on the doctor. The bucket then bounced off of his back and he grunted, when it clattered to the ground he shook off the excess water and called for another bucket. Richard's patient was agitated at the chaos, "It's all right Paul, just hang on." He said soothingly. Gently he poured water over the man's face clearing away the dirt. Once again a ring had formed around the doctor, men and women both watching in silence. The circle parted to let Isobel through, she carried his bag and knelt beside Richard. She rummaged through it before withdrawing what he needed-a vial with a dropper attachment. Richard asked Isobel to lift the eyelid. Saline was then used to wash out the man's eye. The foreign object was cleared and Paul was able to sit up.

"I'm sorry about the water doctor" The man who had dropped the bucket nearly sobbed.

Richard smiled, "No need, not hot anymore." He said truthfully.

The circle was about to break up when a woman cried, "He's bleeding."

Richard's head shot up trying to identify who the bleeding man was. Isobel too was searching for the next patient. Dean then came beside Clarkson, "Doctor, your back."

Comically Richard twisted yet couldn't see the injury. Isobel's eyes quickly located the wound, caused most likely caused when the bucket fell. With the shirt wet the blood was smearing, most likely making the wound seem larger and more angry. She began pushing the hem of the shirt up but the area could not be revealed. She whispered to him and his hands began popping open the buttons. Because of the heat he was not wearing a vest underneath. The shirt was pushed off of his shoulders and the expanse of his back was revealed to Isobel. She had to remind herself that there was a crowd of people and this was not the time to gaze admiringly at the man before her. Her nursing skills took over and assess the wound. While it was fairly large it was not deep. Her hands found the antiseptic, she wet some gauze, liberally coating it with the substance, she gave a quick warning before applying the antiseptic.

Richard emitted a soft grunt and stiffened as she applied the stinging substance. Her unoccupied hand went to his shoulder in comfort and if it lingered too long he didn't complain. The bleeding had slowed to almost nothing yet she applied a bandage anyway to keep the wound clean. His shirt was then put back on, the sun would quickly dry it. As Richard turned to Isobel he caught her gaze. In that moment something passed between them, there was want, understanding and love. All of that was communicated in a moment that seemed to last forever in a blink of an eye. Richard returned to the line and the men moved to make a space for him. Isobel returned to Margie to distribute water. Soon after a ripple caused the men to stand up straight, the line crested like a wave, the wave soon came to Richard who looked up. It was Tom Branson and Lady Mary. They were escorting two people, Lord Merton and one of his sons-Larry. As they came near he could hear the soft Irish lilt of Tom as he explained the irrigation process to Lord Merton. No doubt he was here to see what could be done to his own land. Tom left Merton's side to walk down the line to talk with the men when he came to Richard he stopped.

"Afternoon doctor." He said in greeting.

"Afternoon Mr. Branson, how are we doing?" Richard asked with a wave of his hand.

Tom smiled, "This is excellent work." He then shrugged, "Wish I could help you bu-"

Richard raised his hand to stop whatever Tom was going to say. He nodded toward Larry Merton, "Do you want something from my bag?"

Tom snorted, "Don't have a gun packed in there do you?"

Richard chuckled openly and the man beside him bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Larry Grey was now complaining about the heat. Mary scolded him, "Well you should have been at the Abbey at the appointed hour, it was a lot cooler three hours ago."

Lord Merton tried to catch Isobel's attention but she merely ignored him and gave Richard another glass of water.

With the rudimentary inspection over the upper crust vanished. The sun was beginning to set and the men were beginning to tire. Many began to sing songs, joined by their wives a chorus of voices urging each other on. No one really wanted to come back tomorrow to dig so there was huge incentive to finish. The sky had darkened to reds and oranges as the channel was finished. Cheers and whistles rang through the air as the process of cleanup began. Spades, buckets and other equipment was loaded as couples began walking to their respective homes. The army was disbanding.

Isobel gathered her basket whilst Richard retrieved his medical bag. One of the villagers offered them a ride on their wagon which they accepted. The night was warm and the steady pattern of movement had Richard relaxing. The town square loomed and Richard jumped down off of the wagon before holding out his hand for Isobel to take. He began to walk towards his cottage and he knew that she would follow. Once inside he removed his boots and placed them on a small mat near the door. Isobel moved near him, breathing in deeply she could discern the scent of Earth and sweat, the things needed to make life grow. She wanted him like this, dirty, raw and unfinished. She pressed near to him and kissed him. Responding eagerly he kissed her back. Her mouth still held the hint of lemon from earlier and her own sweat had mixed with the talcum powder she had applied making her smell fresh and alive.

Clothes were shed and flung to floor like seed husks. Isobel could see his bed, it was a rumpled mess, no doubt he had no time to make it this morning. His white sheets were going to be soiled by the earth still clinging to his body and she found the thought enthralling. She wanted a stain, she wanted visual proof that they were lovers, she even entertained the thought of stripping the bed when they were done and keeping the sheets.

His body was warm against hers from having been in the sun, there was no awkwardness, no fumbling. Palms glided over skin, as they stood holding one another Richard moved his leg between hers. Her lower body began moving against it and she moaned. The sounds she made shot straight to his groin and his mind screamed Now.

The bed seemed to rush up to meet them. Skin against skin, chest against chest they moved. Isobel flexed her own legs to secure Richard to her. His left hand fisted her hair gently as he canted his hips and joined with Isobel. Wanting more contact Isobel pushed up with her body to gain as much contact with Richard as she could. Every point of contact made her crave more until she was whimpering with need. This need was assuaged when his mouth kissed hers savagely.

The smell of Earth was heavy around her and it filled her blood. Alive, she felt so wonderfully alive. As he touched her dirt was smearing on her skin marking her as his. She welcomed it and when his hips moved with more force she welcomed that too. His shoulders flexed as he held her to him, he buried his nose into her hair that had spilled on the pillow and breathed in her scent. A memory struck him, he was walking with his father in Scotland between the rows of lavender. She truly was his home and as she began to break he whispered encouragement, letting her know he would put her back together.

A wail escaped her throat at his promise, the sound seemed to grate her throat but to Richard it was more sonorous than Dame Nellie. As her cry faded he felt the base of his spine tingle.

"Isobel" he said in wonder, in warning, in praise.

"Yes" was her answer and he too surrendered everything he was to her.

The next day the irrigation piping was installed, soon the land would be watered efficiently. In the evening, one of the farmers was having what amounted to a piss-up on his land. A bonfire burned, and all who had dug were invited to attend. Isobel was hesitant to attend, she feared her presence might upset the others since she was viewed as upper class. Richard merely pulled her to him, "Don't fret, you're with me, no one will say a word."

Once again what looked like a marching army approached, it was couples with baskets laden with food and booze. Richard had broken into his stash of single malt whiskey. His right hand carried the bottle while his left hand was clasped in Isobel's. The bonfire was a guiding beacon leading them all, when they came near enough to feel its heat they heard cheerful greetings welcoming them. Isobel squeezed his hand, it was going to be a good night.


End file.
